Chapter 9: Her Terms, His Terms

I didn't knock.

His assistant looked up from the desk outside, opened her mouth, and closed it again when she saw my face.

Brody was on a call. He glanced at me, said, "I'll call you back," and hung up.

I shut the door and put the envelope on his desk.

"Someone delivered this to my office."

He looked at it for a long time before he touched it.

Then he slid the photograph out and looked at the pier, the sunset, and the back of his own head.

His jaw went tight.

"It's the day I kissed you," he said.

"It's the day I kissed you."

"That's not the point."

"It's exactly the point. Turn it over."

He turned it over.

I watched him read the pencil line, and I watched something cold go across his face.

"Staff are off limits, aren't they," he said quietly.

"Somebody knows your rule. And they know my name, and they know my desk, and they know where I was at sunset on a Monday."

"Or you sent it to yourself."

I stared at him.

"Say that again."

"I'm asking." He put the photo down. "On the island you knew I wasn't a handyman. You saw the key card."

"I asked you about the key card."

"You asked, and you let it go." His voice was careful. "The next thing I know, you walk into my boardroom on a job you didn't apply for."

I hadn't told him I didn't apply.

I realized that a second after he said it, and he saw me realize it.

"Regan told me," he said, before I could speak. "She said the recruiter called you."

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